


Level 8

by TheAsexualofSpades



Series: Quarantine Drabbles [103]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Phil Coulson, Communication, Coulson Lives, Gen, Nick Fury Knows All, Phil Coulson & Nick Fury Friendship, Protective Nick Fury, Steve Rogers finds out Coulson is alive and goes HEY GUYS, Teamwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:27:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25089172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades
Summary: Steve Rogers is a Level 8 SHIELD operative. This means he has access to things that Natasha and Clint don't. He doesn't know what to do with this; secrets and spying were never his strong suit.He finds a Level 7 file and he can't in good conscience keep it to himself.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Phil Coulson, Clint Barton & Steve Rogers, Nick Fury & Steve Rogers, Phil Coulson & Avengers Team, Phil Coulson & Natasha Romanov, Phil Coulson & Nick Fury, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Series: Quarantine Drabbles [103]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677655
Comments: 8
Kudos: 115





	Level 8

**Author's Note:**

> i am angry and here you go

Fandom: Marvel

Prompt: “I could use the company.”

* * *

Steve should’ve known that signing up for SHIELD meant signing up for secrets, more secrets, and secrets that have secrets of their own. He _definitely_ should’ve known he wasn’t going to want to _keep_ all of those secrets when he found out he was ranked two levels above Natasha and Clint.

Natasha had just shrugged. “It’s just how it works, Steve,” she had said,popping a raspberry in her mouth, “Fury thinks you can be trusted.”

“And you can’t?”

She gives him a look. “Would you?”

_Yes,_ he wants to say, _yes, a million times over. You’ve earned it. I won’t judge you for your past._

But he can’t quite get the words out and he hates how dirty that makes him feel.

Clint had barely glanced up from the mess of wires sprawled in front of him. “Levels are levels, Cap. Dunno what else to tell you. You know Fury’s gonna find out you ain’t happy about it, right?”

_I know,_ Steve had thought, _I know he will._

He had. They didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of the details that went into doing what they did for a living, but they knew a partnership was better than trying to go it alone.

Then came the big secret, the one with a big red Level 7 stamped across it. Steve had opened the file, read it with his heart in his throat, and promptly taken the elevator straight to Fury’s office.

His boots thump on the floor as he strides down the hallway. He pushes open the door, tablet in hand, only to see Fury perched on the end of the desk, reading it too. Fury looks up. Waves him over. Steve crosses the room and can only clutch the tablet as if he lets it go, it will cease to be true.

“Phil Coulson is alive.”

Fury nods, gestures for them to take a seat on the couches. Steve does, keeping the tablet in his lap. Fury folds his hands and rests his elbows on his knees.

“You’ve got questions.”

Slight understatement, if you ask Steve, but he’s not incorrect.

“…how?”

“Project T.A.H.I.T.I.,” says Fury, “a protocol designed as a last measure if things went south.”

“Was that what it was for?”

“Contingency plan for the fall of an Avenger.”

Steve takes a deep breath. _The fall of an Avenger._

“Phil Coulson was an Avenger,” Steve murmurs, “and he was the first one to die.”

Fury glances over at him. “Sound familiar?”

“One member of my team,” Steve says, “the _only_ one to give their life for the sake of the mission. If…”

He cuts himself off with a shake of his head. There’s no use going down that path right now. It’s enough of a miracle that _Coulson’s_ alive, it’d be selfish to ask for another.

“Where is he now?”

Fury shrugs. “Working.”

“You’re not gonna give me anything besides that, are you?”

Fury gives him a look. “Last time I shared my other eye with you he got stabbed through the heart by an alien from another world.”

_His other eye._

Steve’s struck with a realization that he knows _nothing_ about Phil Coulson other than the fact that he was ‘present while he was unconscious’ and that Fury trusted him enough to move heaven and earth to bring him back. He knows from Natasha and Clint’s reactions to his death that he was very important to them, knows Hill cared for him. Hell, he knows _Tony_ cared for him too.

“Tell about him,” he says finally, “about Agent Phil Coulson.”

“His file’s in the system,” Fury says, “probably got more stuff in there.”

“I don’t want to _read_ about him,” Steve points out, “I want you to tell me about him.”

Steve stares Fury down until he raises his hands, sitting back on the couch and rolling his head back to look at Steve.

“What do you wanna know?”

“Whatever you can tell me.”

He doesn’t know how long they spend there, talking about Phil Coulson, but it’s a while. Steve learns about the man that took SHIELD’s STRIKE teams and made them into cohesive units, the man that went out of his way to make sure people had teams they could work in, that people could _trust_ their teams, that SHIELD felt like one unit, instead of a bunch of moving parts. He feels a growing respect for the man, not just because of the admiration and respect evident in _Fury’s_ voice, but at the stories of what he’s done for SHIELD.

When they finish, or when they come to a stopping place, Fury sighs, heaving himself up.

“Am I keeping you?”

“Not from anything important,” Fury says, turning around and resting his hands in his pockets, “but I think you’ve got one more thing you wanna tell me before I kick you out.”

Steve steadies himself. “Why haven’t you told us?”

“Can’t kill someone if they’re already dead.”

“Is that all?”

“Is that good enough for you?”

Steve thinks. Is it?

He doesn’t want Coulson to die again. He doesn’t want to bring any more pain to the people that have lost him already. But…

“We deserved to know he’s alive,” Steve says finally, looking up at Fury. “At the very least, Romanoff and Barton deserve to.”

When his words hit Fury, Steve almost startles. Fury doesn’t look like Director Nicholas J. Fury right now. He…he just looks like an old man, world-weary and trying to do the right thing.

“You know they do, Fury,” Steve says, standing, “after all they’ve been through.”

Fury stands there for a moment, looking at him. “Anybody ever tell you you’d make a hell of a politician if you wanted to?”

“Politics,” Steve muses, “not my thing.”

“Well, you haven’t been putting the ‘riot’ in ‘patriot’ for seventy-odd years for nothing,” Fury agrees, clapping him on the shoulder.

Steve frowns. “So…”

“So I made you Level 8 for a reason, Cap,” Fury says, back to being the Director of SHIELD, “maybe you should start _using it._ ”

Steve understands. “Thank you, sir.”

“No, Captain,” Fury calls as he leaves, “thank _you._ ”

Steve’s no super-spy, but he knows enough to know that you _need_ a secure location for something like this. He knows no one knows how to pick a secure location like Natasha Romanoff.

He doesn’t know how to do this other than just come out and say it, and hope that Natasha’s incredible perception lets her know that he’s telling the truth.

Natasha punches him in the face and vanishes.

He doesn’t see her for a month. He works, he worries, he thinks about what he should’ve done differently. Then he comes home one day to find her perched on his kitchen counter, idly toying with one of her Widow’s Bites.

“Your security is crap,” she says by way of greeting, “and the nurse across the hall is cute.”

Steve relaxes, just a little bit, unable to keep the worry completely out of his posture. Natasha turns the Widow’s Bite over once more before tucking it back into some secret place.

“He’s alive,” she murmurs, “he’s _alive._ ”

Steve rushes forward when she wobbles, unsure of whether or not she’s going to fall. Granted, she’s _Natasha Romanoff,_ but she’s also human and coming to terms with an uncomfortable truth. She reaches for him, lets him wrap her up so tight in a hug it must hurt, and still, she squeezes harder until he’s _sure_ this must hurt.

She doesn’t cry, doesn’t make any noise. He knows they’re not there yet. It’s enough that he’s allowed to do this. He holds her, doesn’t let go, until she pulls away, her face inscrutable. She looks up at him. The corner of her mouth quirks up the _smallest_ bit.

“Thank you.”

Before he can say anything, she’s out the window. He knows if he tries to look for her, he won’t see anything.

Clint corners him in the elevator a few days later. Eyes the camera, tells Steve to come with him to the secure training facility. Steve readies his shield but Clint doesn’t pick up his bow. Instead, he heads for a rope course high in the back of the place, scurries up without a moment’s hesitation. Hollers at Steve to follow.

There, nestled in the rafters, Clint finally speaks.

“Fury tell you,” he asks, “or did you find it first?”

“I found it,” Steve murmurs, “but he didn’t deny it. Or tell me to stop looking when I pressed him for more.”

Clint whistles lowly. “Shit, Cap. Fury must really trust you.”

A horrible pain shoots through Steve’s chest at the undercurrent of resentment in Clint’s voice. “Clint, I—“

“Nah,” Clint interrupts, waving him off, “that ain’t what I mean. I think Fury needed to talk about it as much as we do.”

Steve frowns. “‘We?’”

Natasha drops down on his other side, leans against him. And there, high up, their heads brushing the ceiling, they talk. About how Phil Coulson helped them find their feet in this strange world of grey. About how Fury introduced them to each other, then to this agent that made them a family. An old man with an eye patch, two kids with skills no kids should ever have, and two agents trying to make the world a better place. Steve smiles at the stories he hears about Nat and Maria pranking the other officers, about Clint working with Phil to map out the entire vent system in the building, and the secret three a.m. baking sessions that ended with Fury’s eyepatch splattered in batter.

He listens to the good ones, the bad ones, everything in between.

He makes up his mind.

He tells Tony and Pepper next, just because they’re the easiest to find. Pepper gasps, Tony steadies himself on the end of his table, looking to Natasha for confirmation. When she nods, Tony turns to his station, immediately putting JARVIS to work figuring out what to do, how to find him. Steve helps where he can, knowing this isn’t his strong suit at all, but grateful he’s able to provide what insight he can. Tony pulls him aside and into a hug, a silent thank-you.

He listens to Tony’s stories too, and Pepper’s clarifications, about the brief time he’s known Agent Phil Coulson. He hides a snort at the supernanny comment.

Tony must tell Bruce because he comes back fully aware. Finding Thor is almost as difficult as finding Coulson, but he comes by the Tower one day and they tell him too. Thor’s got stories of his own, of a man who walked through the middle of an Asgardian battleground with no fear, only to tell them that they were hurting innocent people and they needed to leave. By the end of it, everyone is in agreement.

They have to find him.

Fury doesn’t say a word.

Then one day a postcard arrives outside of Steve’s apartment. He picks it up, frowning, glancing around to see who may have left it. It shows a tropical landscape, with the words: “Tahiti; it’s a magical place!”

He flips it over.

’2459 18th St NW. 1600h.’

He texts Natasha. She tells everyone else. Within minutes, he gets a message from Tony saying he’s got a jet in the area and everyone else is waiting. He also tells Cap there’s a cloaked plane nearby too.

Steve makes his way to the location with his heart in his throat. He can feel the anxiety of the team buzzing in his pocket. He turns on the spot, makes sure this isn’t a setup. He knows Natasha and Clint are stationed nearby, making sure everything goes to plan, sure another team is doing the same.

Then he sees him.

He walks forward, holding out his hand.

“Steve Rogers. It’s an honor.”

The other man takes it with a smile.

“Phil Coulson. And believe me, the pleasure’s all mine.”

Steve smiles. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

He gestures inside, where he knows the others are waiting. "Do you have time for a drink? I could use the company."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr while we're all in quarantine. 
> 
> https://a-small-batch-of-dragons.tumblr.com/


End file.
